One Earl Grey, Please
by duplicitywrites
Summary: Coffee Shop AU. Tom thinks Harry and his terrible coffee order are both disasters, but then Harry starts to come in more often, prompting Tom to realize that maybe Harry isn't so bad after all. (COMPLETE.)


A/N:

the fluffy coffee shop au that we all deserve.

thanks to waitingondaisies for being a bad influence on me and therefore encouraging this fic to be written.

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**One Earl Grey, Please**

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* * *

Tom Riddle had gotten a job at Padfoot's Cafe because it was a 20 minute walk from campus and was the only place that didn't seem absolutely horrible to its workers. The shop was owned by an older couple, but it was managed by their daughter, Nymphadora 'do _ not _ call me Nymphadora' Tonks.

So he could avoid as many potential customers as possible, Tom had immediately volunteered himself for all the earliest shifts. If that meant most of his time was spent cleaning things and lifting heavy objects, fine. He would do it. There was enough ass-kissing going on in his business program without him having to deal with it in his part-time job to boot. He was only here to earn enough cash to supplement his scholarship. His scholarship, which _ should _ have been enough to cover his entire tuition if they hadn't gone and raised all the bloody costs.

For the first two weeks before the school semester started, things were fine. Tom wiped down the counters, cleaned out the machines, swept the floors, and tidied the stockroom. He only ever had to serve a few customers here and there, and then his shift would end and someone else would take over.

Most of the time, Tom found himself working either with Tonks, or with one of the same two people. A fiery redhead named Ginny Weasley and a brunette named Astoria Greengrass.

Tom prefered Astoria to Ginny, mostly because Ginny liked to talk, which meant that Tom was expected to keep up a friendly demeanour whenever she was around. Astoria was more likely to work in silence for long periods of time, though she did frequently ask him to pick up heavy things for her, which was something Ginny never did.

Eventually, Tom found that working at his new job became a thing of routine. He would show up at Padfoot's at some ungodly hour in the morning, be let in by Tonks or whoever was opening, and then spend the next few hours slaving away at menial tasks until it was time for him to leave.

So things were fine all the way up until one shift where Tonks said Ginny would be arriving late due to a family emergency, and would Tom please please please stay an extra few hours to cover, just until Astoria could come in, and he would be paid overtime for his troubles. It was the last Sunday before school was supposed to start, so Tom didn't have any excuse to say no.

* * *

"Overtime," Tom repeated, just to be sure. His arms were a little sore from lifting supplies, and what he really wanted to do was trudge home to his dorm room and pass out for a few hours. But working a little extra now would mean that he could work less later, and that was too good an opportunity to pass up on.

Tonks bobbed her head, then patted him on the shoulder. "Come now, customer service isn't _ that _ bad. You get some real assholes sometimes, but most of the ones that come in here are nice. All of the bastards go to the Starbucks up the block."

Tom nodded, though he wasn't quite sure if he believed her, and took Ginny's usual place at the front counter. No one came in. Tom grabbed a cloth and mopped at the clean counter so that Tonks wouldn't come back and see that he wasn't doing anything.

Fifteen minutes passed. Tom was starting to think that perhaps he could get away with checking his phone for a bit, but then the bell at the front tinkled and Tom looked up.

A scruffy-looking boy his age had blundered through the door. He was dressed in a t-shirt that had clearly had scissors taken to it, shorts that were at least two sizes too small, and galaxy-patterned crew socks. His hair was sweat soaked and sticking up in all directions at once, probably a result of whatever ungodly morning jog he'd been on.

As the human disaster that had entered the shop finally caught his breath enough to look up, he blinked a pair of bright green eyes at Tom in a show of clear confusion.

"You're not Ginny."

Tom plastered a fake smile on his face. "I am not."

"Is Tonks here?"

"She's busy in the back." Tom waited patiently to see if the boy was going to order.

"Ah, right. Erm, I'm Harry. Harry Potter." And then Potter stuck out his hand.

When Tom failed to do anything, Potter looked down at his hand. "Right. I'm all sweaty. Good call."

"Can I take your order?" Tom asked, politeness straining around the edges of his tone.

"Yeah," Potter said, glancing up at the menu. "Um."

Tom was finding it hard to believe that this Harry Potter was a regular. He knew Ginny and Tonks, but he had to look at the menu to decide what he wanted? Or maybe he was just one of those terrible customers that couldn't seem to make up their mind no matter what.

"Might I suggest a pumpkin spice latte?" Tom asked. "It's the weekly special."

"Ah, no, no thanks." Potter frowned, still looking at the menu. Then, after a pause, he added, "Usually I just get my regular order."

"Which is?"

"I want to try something new today," Potter said, a little too quickly to be casual. "But not the pumpkin spice thing. I really don't like my drinks too fancy. Do you… what do you like to drink?"

"Earl grey with two creams and two sugars," Tom rattled off.

"Coffee?" asked Potter. He was now squinting up at the menu; a sign that he probably needed glasses since it was taking him this long just to place a bloody coffee order.

"I take my coffee black."

"Right. Okay then I think I'll just. I'll just take an earl grey, like you said." Potter nodded, then pulled out his wallet to pay.

Tom rang him through and proceeded to make the order. Partway through the process, Tonks came back out to the front and greeted Potter enthusiastically.

"Harry! How're you today?" She enveloped Potter in a hug despite his horrendous attire and poor state of hygiene, and then began to question him about his classes. Apparently Potter was a chemistry major who was studying at the same school that Tom was going to.

When the earl grey was done, Tom brought it over to their table. "Here you are."

"Oh, thanks! I could have gotten up to get it, you didn't have to walk it over for me." Potter ducked his head a little, sheepish.

"Not a problem," Tom said.

Tonks inspected Harry's drink. "This isn't what you normally get," she said.

"Just felt like a bit of a change today," Potter said, rubbing at the back of his neck. His gaze flickered up to Tom, then back to his tea.

Tom was done with the socializing at this point, so he turned around and went back to the counter. Tonks and Potter continued to talk while Tom serviced a few more customers that came in, and then eventually Potter left.

* * *

The next time Tom saw Ginny, she was looking rather cheerful for someone who had called in a 'family emergency'.

"Sorry you had to cover me last week," she told him. "My brother Bill and his wife Fleur had their first kid! I was staying over at theirs when it happened, so I couldn't leave right away."

Tom grunted in response. He was sorting through the cup lids. Someone in the evening crew kept messing them up, an occurrence that happened every other night without fail, and Tom had now made it a habit to check through all the lids at the start of his shift.

"Harry tells me you two finally met," Ginny added.

"We did," Tom said, suspicious.

"He's one of our regulars," Ginny continued. "So I hope you were nice to him."

Tom scowled. "I was perfectly polite."

Ginny eyed him for a moment, then went to yank her long hair up into a ponytail. "Did you make his drink right?"

"He ordered an earl grey."

"Oh, hm." Ginny paused mid motion, turning to look at him. "Usually he gets a large, half-caff, iced vanilla latte with almond milk and caramel drizzle. Just for reference, you know. In case you see him again."

Tom raised a brow at her. That sort of drink did not seem like the kind of thing Potter would order. Or maybe it was, Tom thought as he recalled Potter's garish socks. Maybe that was the sort of terrible, complicated drink that Potter actually liked.

"I guess it doesn't really matter," Ginny said. "You probably won't see him again. He always comes in around the same time and you always leave early."

* * *

Ginny's words were a curse. Two days later, Tom had been sweeping the leaves off of the pavement in front of the shop when Potter came jogging up. This time he was wearing baggy black sweats and a neon pink t-shirt that read 'lab brat' using elements from the periodic table. He was also wearing round-framed glasses, which confirmed Tom's previous suspicions about Potter's blindness.

"Hey, Tom!" Potter said cheerfully.

"Hello," Tom said cautiously, reminding himself that he wore a nametag and Potter was friends with his coworkers. "You're here early."

Potter's face was still flushed from his run. "Yeah," said Potter, running a hand through his messy hair. "Decided to get an early start to the day, you know?"

"Well, Tonks isn't here today," Tom told him. "It's just Astoria and I opening."

"Oh, I know," said Potter.

The two of them stood there for a moment, Tom with his broom in hand, watching Potter stare back at him.

"Are you going in?" Tom finally asked.

"Oh, right." Potter bobbed his head, then shuffled over to the door. Tom watched Potter's retreat and heard Astoria's friendly greeting right before the door closed.

Determined to avoid contact if possible, Tom took his time clearing off the rest of the leaves. When he finished he went back inside, his eyes scanning the room for Potter. Astoria was no longer at the counter, meaning she'd probably disappeared to the back for something, but Potter was seated at one of the tables. He was nursing a large iced vanilla latte, which Tom noted was actually untouched.

"Hey, Tom," Potter said again, smiling.

Was it possible for someone to be that cheerful upon greeting you for the second time that morning? Tom shook the question off, nodding once in Potter's direction before going to put the broom away.

Astoria was carrying a bag of straws when she returned. She tore the bag open, then proceeded to stuff the straws into their holder. "Tom," she said, "can you go fetch one of the almond milk crates? I just noticed we're out."

"Sure." Tom stuffed his hands into his pockets, walking towards the back room.

"How's your drink, Harry?"

"Ah, it's great! Thanks, Astoria."

By the time Tom had returned with the milk, Potter was gone again, and, as far as Tom could tell, he had taken his fancy drink with him.

* * *

A few days after _ that_, Potter came in again. This time, Tom was working with Ginny. Potter was wearing a green jumper that was several sizes too large and a pair of (thankfully) normal blue jeans.

Ginny and Potter exchanged greetings, and then Ginny set about making Potter his drink. Tom watched with interest as Ginny put the entire thing together, the motions practiced and effortless.

"How're your classes?" Potter asked him suddenly.

"They're alright," Tom said. "Did you want me to ring you up?"

Potter glanced over at Ginny, who was still busy with the latte. "Uh, alright."

They were partway through the transaction when Ginny looked up, probably because she'd heard the sound of the register going. "What are you doing?"

Potter's face went red. "Um. Paying?"

Ginny stomped over, drink in hand. She glared at Tom for a moment, then turned her irate gaze to Potter. "Don't be stupid," she said. And then, to Tom, "Harry doesn't pay here."

Tom blinked. "Alright," he said, after a moment. He closed the register and handed Potter back his money. "Sorry about that," Tom said.

Potter was shaking his head. "No, really, it's fine. It's my fault. I would have felt awkward telling you that, and I really don't mind paying—"

Ginny shoved Potter's drink towards him. "Drink your latte," she said.

Potter's mouth closed. He took the drink and lifted it up, taking a sip. Curiously, his face only continued to grow even more uncomfortable, though that might have been because both Tom and Ginny were still staring at him.

"I'm going to go," Potter said, after a minute more of staring and pretending to enjoy his drink.

"Uh huh," said Ginny. "If I tell Tonks about this, she's going to chew you out."

"Sorry," Potter said, blushing again. Then he made himself scarce, walking at a quick pace to the door.

Tom watched him leave, feeling strange.

"Harry's an idiot," Ginny said, her voice suffused with warmth. Then she looked back over at Tom. "His godfather is Tonks' mother's cousin. They're close. So Harry doesn't pay when he comes here, alright? He's family."

"Yes," Tom said. He cleared his throat. "Yes, that makes sense. Won't happen again."

Ginny sniffed, her brown eyes narrowing, but then another customer came in through the door, and Tom was thankfully excused from having to make any further conversation.

* * *

Harry didn't show up again (at least, not while Tom was working) for an entire week. When he finally did come in, Ginny was already busy with someone else, so Tom told her that he would handle Harry's order. Tom put together an earl grey with two creams and two sugars, then brought it over to where Harry was seated.

"Oh," Harry said, startling at Tom's approach. "I was just going to wait until you guys weren't busy." Then Harry looked down at the drink Tom had placed upon the table. "Earl grey?" Surprise was visible on Harry's face for a brief moment, and then he was smiling.

"Yes," Tom said stiffly. "Enjoy." He turned around and walked back to the register before Harry could say anything else. Grabbing a cloth, Tom started to wipe at the counter, but out of the corner of his eye he watched as Harry picked up the tea and took a long sip.

Though Tom could have sworn she had been busy, Ginny came over to nudge him with her elbow.

"So," she said in a whisper. "Harry, huh?"

Tom froze. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

It was then that Harry got up from his table, waving at them both before he left the cafe. Tom noted with satisfaction that Harry was still holding, with both hands, the tea Tom had made for him.

"He's got a cute arse," said Ginny, admiring.

"Shut up or I'll kill you," Tom responded, but his words lacked malice.

* * *

Tom asked Tonks if he could start to work the occasional late morning shift. He had expected to be met with skepticism and questioning; he had planned out a dozen different possible excuses and responses to offer her. What he had not expected, however, was for Tonks to agree to make the changes like they were nothing.

"Yeah, I can do that," Tonks said absently. "I've been meaning to ask you if you wanted to work some later hours."

Her quick agreement made Tom feel uneasy. "So it's fine? I only worry that maybe Astoria will have trouble with the milk crates."

Tonks waved it off. "It's fine. She just likes to make you carry them because she's lazy."

So Tom began to alternate early morning shifts with late morning shifts. Whenever Harry came in, Tom would prepare an earl grey for him. It became a sort of ritual for the two of them, and Tom thought things were going fairly well so far. But Ginny must have blabbed to Astoria about the earl grey, because the two girls had taken to poking fun at him whenever Harry was around.

"When are you going to ask him out?" Astoria said. "The two of you even have a special drink and everything. Whenever it's someone else he still gets that terrible vanilla latte concoction."

Tom had begun to suspect that someone must have originally foisted this terrible vanilla drink upon Harry, who was simply too awkward and shy to say that he didn't actually like it, and that this was how Harry had gotten stuck with it as his 'regular' order.

"I will," Tom said. "Eventually. I'm just waiting for the right moment."

Astoria snorted. "Sure you are, Tom. You better hurry up with it. Cedric, that new bloke who works the late shift, has been eyeing Harry up."

Tom choked a bit on nothing, then turned to glare at her.

"Cedric is really tall and handsome," Astoria continued. "Broad shoulders, nice wavy hair, deep grey eyes that just stare into your _ soul_—"

"Stop it," Tom snapped.

"I'm just saying." Astoria shrugged. "If you like him, then go for it. God knows he comes in here way more often now, usually when he knows you're working."

Over on the other side of the counter, Harry had disposed of his cup and was now walking towards them. Harry's eyes flickered between both Tom and Astoria for a moment, and then he stopped about a pace or two away, his hands twisting together.

"Um," said Harry. "I'll see you guys soon, yeah?" He flashed them a bright smile, then swiveled towards the door. The bell tinkled as he left.

Astoria rolled her eyes. "At least he's _ trying_."

* * *

Harry didn't come into Padfoot's again until after exams. While Tom didn't blame him, it had put a damper on his plans to ask Harry out. When Harry finally did come in, all bundled up in a thick grey coat and violent orange scarf, Tom was not prepared. With all the stress of exams and the holiday rush at Padfoot's, Tom had mistakenly assumed he would have more time to come up with a proper plan to woo Harry.

From next to Tom, Ginny wolf-whistled. "Time to roll, lover boy."

Tom kicked at her shin, then moved to make Harry's drink. He had to think of something _ now_, something to make sure that Harry knew he was interested.

"Hey guys," Harry said, making his way up to the counter. "Sorry I haven't been by lately. I've just been swamped with exams, and then there was some trouble with my plane tickets—"

"Oh?" asked Ginny. "Where are you going?"

"Well, Sirius said he wanted us to visit France for the winter holidays. Something about some relatives there that keep bothering him?"

"That sounds nice, though. Holidays with family," Ginny said.

Tom finished making the earl grey, then went to grab one of the black markers they used for writing the names on the cups. He scribbled out Harry's name onto the cup, then followed it with a large, stylistic heart. That would get the message across, he thought. Even if Harry was shy, there was no way he could misconstrue something so obvious. To seal the deal, Tom scribbled his phone number along the bottom.

"Here," Tom said, walking over and holding it out. "One earl grey tea."

"Oh, thanks Tom." Harry smiled, green eyes aglow. His fingers brushed against Tom as he took the cup.

Ginny spotted the message immediately and grinned. "I have to go get something from the back," she said, already walking away.

"Wait," Harry said, fumbling with his cup. "I wanted to give you something. All of you, really. Just a small thank you, you know." He pulled his book bag up, setting it onto the counter, and withdrew a handful of envelopes. "One for, um, everyone."

Tom felt jealous as Harry handed the pile over to Ginny. Though Tom tried to see if he could spot his own name, Ginny kept a firm hold on the envelopes, obscuring the names from view.

"I'll be right back," Ginny repeated again, glancing over at Tom for a moment. She took the cards with her as she left.

Harry bit down on his lip as he watched Ginny retreat to the back room, then looked back over at Tom, then looked awkwardly down at the floor. "So, how are you spending your holidays?"

"Still at my dorm," Tom said, pretending to occupy his attention with wiping the counter down. What he really wanted was for Harry to _ look at his cup_, but Harry now seemed to have trouble with looking at anything that was not the floor. "I don't have any family here." He didn't have any family, period, but he wasn't about to say that to Harry. Tom didn't want a pity date.

"I hope it's not too lonely," Harry said softly. This time he did tilt his head up a little, peering up at Tom through his lashes.

Tom smiled. "It's not too bad. I'll probably spend most of it here."

"Have to pay those tuition costs somehow," Harry joked.

"I suppose so," Tom said, leaning forward to brace his forearms on the counter.

They stared at each other for a moment. Harry's cheeks were growing pink. Tom wanted to pick up Harry's earl grey and wave the cup and its message in the air, but for some reason he couldn't get his arms to move.

"I… I should go pack," Harry finished, sounding dismayed. "For my flight."

Tom swallowed. His brain seemed to now be operating on autopilot. "Alright," he said. "See you after break?"

"Yeah." Harry lingered at the counter a moment longer, then left the shop.

Ginny came barrelling out from behind the door. "What the fuck was that, Tom? You just let him—"

Tom made a shushing noise, because Harry was still standing just outside the glass windows. Then Tom saw Harry lift his cup. His heart sped up against his will, thrumming loudly in his chest.

"Oh," said Ginny in a whisper. "Oh! Wait for it…"

They watched as Harry took a sip of his tea. Then Harry's eyes caught on the black marker, the cup paused on its way away from his lips, hovering in place while Harry stared at it.

"Fuck," Tom said, reaching up to drag a hand through his hair, distraught. "It's too late. It's too late, he's outside, he's too shy to come back in, I'm not going to see him until after winter holidays and by then some French version of Cedric bloody Diggory is going be his boyfriend and I'll be doomed to a loveless existence—"

"_Wait,_" Ginny said, snapping her arm out. It caught Tom across the chest, knocking the air out of him. Then Ginny ducked under the counter as Harry spun to look back at the shop.

Tom tried to kick at Ginny, but she was already scuttling towards the backroom again. "_Where are you going?_" Tom demanded in a hiss. He was starting to panic. Harry was still staring at him.

But Ginny didn't respond, so Tom was forced to pretend like he wasn't having a breakdown just standing behind the counter with the stupid counter-wiping cloth in his hand.

A strange expression came over Harry's face as he made a sudden grab for the door handle. The bell signalling someone's entrance to Padfoot's tinkled as Harry strode back into the shop, green eyes determined.

Tom had dropped his cloth down and opened his mouth to say something, he was not sure what, when Harry reached over the counter and grasped Tom's barista apron quite firmly, tugging them together. Their mouths collided in a mess of earl grey flavour. Tom wound his hand around to the back of Harry's neck, his fingers tangling in Harry's messy hair.

The kiss lasted a long time. By the time they had pulled away, Tom was sure that the counter must have put a permanent indent into his stomach. But Harry's lips were pink and a bit swollen, his face lit up with joy, and Tom found that this was the only thing he really cared about.

"That was really good," Harry said, breathless.

Tom reached up to place a warm hand against Harry's face, his thumb stroking delicately across the cheekbone. "I have to ask," he said, looking intently into Harry's eyes. "You don't really like that vanilla latte monstrosity, do you?"

"I _ hate _ it," Harry said, fervent.

"Good," said Tom, and leant in to kiss Harry again.

* * *

A/N:

ah, young love. so sweet, so pure. so ridiculous and adorable.

can confirm that harry literally got himself stuck with that drink because he knows everyone who works there and they all think it's his favourite, so he's trapped in a bubble of anxiety.

find me on tumblr at duplicitywrites :)


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